I'd Do Anything
by Caramel Candy
Summary: Something almost always happens when you get into an arugment with your best friend. Jake and Miley can prove that. Jiley. Oneshot.


Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana. If I did, Jake Ryan would be in every episode. Bet a lot of you would enjoy that. ;)**

I'd Do Anything

"Lola, I cannot believe it. Did you see how wonderful that dress was? I want to buy it, I _have_ to buy it." Hannah Montana cried, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "It is to die for."

"Agreed," Lola replied. She brushed her purple hair out of her eyes, straightening the violet top she had on. A white skirt and new high purple boots accompanied her top, along with several white and violet bangles that covered her arms.

"I need to talk to Stella about it soon." Hannah glanced around the room, trying to find the celebrity designer. The room was crowded with several other celebrities who had come to observe Stella's latest styles.

"Ladies," A male voice cried out behind them. Lola and Hannah spun around, coming face-to-face with Mike Standley III. He smiled at them; his large G-Unit sweater hung over his body, Roco-Wear Jeans over his legs. He had his goatee on his chin, with a hat placed side-ways over his head. Several necklaces hung off his neck with three rings on his fingers.

"Hey, Mike. Where'd you go?" Lola asked, referring to when he had left the fashion show, claiming he needed the bathroom, but hadn't returned. Lola placed her hands firmly on her hips, glaring at him. He had promised to sit through the fashion show with her.

"I did go to the bathroom. I swear to God I did! But on my way back to the show, I ran into Selena Gomez." He sounded excited, his eyes shining. "So, we talked for a while. Apparently, Demi Lovato made her come along, when Selena would rather be watching the game—like me."

"And you think _I_ want to be here?" Lola exclaimed loudly. "I wanted to watch the game just as much as you did! If I had to sit through the whole damn fashion show, you should have too."

"Hey! I'm still here you know," Hannah interrupted, her hand placed over her heart. Why had they just yelled that out in front of everyone?

"It's not like you didn't _know_ that, Hannah." Oliver rolled his eyes. Hannah glared at him, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Actually, no I didn't. I _assumed_ that my friends wanted to come to make me happy, _not_ because they had too. I also assumed my friends would be honest with me about something like this," Hannah snapped. "Clearly, I was wrong."

"Come off it, Hannah. Who would want to come to some fashion show when there is a Lakers game on tonight?" Lola asked, throwing her hands in the air, "No one! Except these famous celebrities—who only come because they _have_ to, might I add."

Hannah just stood there, stunned at her friend's outburst. "I didn't know you felt that way. Maybe next time, you should tell me how you feel about something rather than wait for me to find out what it is. And then get upset with me when I don't realise it."

"I'm not upset," Lola said, tiredly, running a hand through her hair. "I just blew up…I shouldn't have said those things."

"But you did," Hannah pointed out. "And you weren't honest with me. We can't be friends if you're not honest. How do I know you're not keeping everything else from me?"

"Because I'm telling you I'm not," Lilly spoke as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You lied to me before, how do I know you're not right now?" Hannah inquired, leaning forward. "I don't."

"You should trust me," Lilly cried, also leaning forward. The two were almost nose-to-nose. Mike looked between the two uneasily, wondering if he should intervene.

"I don't know if I can do that anymore," tears welled up in Hannah's blue eyes, as she pushed past Lola, running out of the room.

Lola rolled her eyes. "She is such a drama-queen sometimes."

"Well, Lola, she does have a point." Mike reasoned. "How was she supposed to know you didn't want to come if you hadn't told her?"

"Look at me, man." Lola exclaimed. "Do I look like I want to come to some fashion show?"

Mike looked at Lola, giving her a once over. Judging from her outfit, she needed to be at a fashion show. "But she doesn't know that, Lola. Not when you act so enthusiastic about it. I mean, I've known you forever and sometimes you even fool me."

"Don't go blaming this one me! This was your fault it all started to begin with," Lola jabbed her finger into Mike's chest.

"How is it my fault? I just told you where I was. Talking to some hot babe. It's you who flipped out on us." Mike protested. "It's mostly your fault."

"Don't blame this all on me, you dolt." Lola cried out, shoving him backwards. Mike stumbled, almost tripping over Chris Brown as he walked by. Chris grasp Mike's arm, pulling him up right. He looked down at him concerned.

"Dude, you alright?" Chris asked, patting Mike's shoulder. "That was a pretty hard fall."

"I'm fine. Thanks," Mike replied, dusting his jeans. Chris flashed him a grin, slugging his shoulder gently.

"Don't have too much to drink, yo. Hannah might not be too happy with walking her drunken friend home." Chris joked, smiling at Mike. Mike's eyes widened. Chris seemed confused for a moment. "You _are_ Hannah's friend, aren't you? The one who raps?"

"That's me," Mike declared proudly. Chris Brown knew who he was. He knew his name! He felt like having a Lilly Meeting A Celebrity Moment, but he decided against it, not wanting to risk his dignity.

Chris laughed, shaking his head. "I'll catch you later, man. Stay low on the drinks. I don't think their safe here, judging by how you fell."

"Sure. Thanks again man." Mike shook Chris' hand, nodding to the singer as he walked away. Mike stood there, silent for a minute, absorbing what had just happened. He had meant Chris Brown and Chris Brown actually knew who he was!

Lola came rushing over, her hand over her mouth. "Oh, my God! Mike, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Mike answered gruffly, pushing Lola's hands away from him as she tried to straighten him up.

"Did you see that?" She cried, excitedly. She squealed, bouncing on her heels. "Chris Brown _talked_ to you! He actually knows your name. Gosh, that's so cool."

"I know," Mike agreed, nodding. His eyes wandered away from Lola and back to the crowded room. He wanted to talk to Selena again. Something about her captivated him.

"You know what," Lola's voice broke him out of his thoughts. She was rummaging through her purse, pulling out her Razr. "I want to call Randy. I'll catch you later, Mike. Keep your phone on in case I need to find you."

Before Mike even had a chance to answer, Lola walked off, phone pressed against her ear. Lola—or rather Lilly—had recently started dating a boy from their school. He was a senior, while Lilly was a junior but they got along just fine. He was on the football team and an AP student. He'd taken a fancy in Lilly since the first day of school when Lilly had run into him on her way to History.

Ever since they had met that fateful day, Randy and Lilly had been inseparable. The two were seen everywhere together and it wasn't long before Randy asked her out. Lilly gladly accepted, thoroughly enjoying having a popular boyfriend. The two had been together for almost 5 months now, and seemed comfortable enough. Of course, your best friend having a popular boyfriend definitely had its perks. Amber and Ashley stayed clear from the trio ever since Randy had made it clear he was interested in Lilly. Oliver, himself, was no longer 'bullied' and actually was invited to popular functions that students held.

Mike shook his head, clearing his thoughts, before walking around the room. He nodded to people as he passed; trying to find Selena—the most decent person he wanted to see. Much of the people here tonight seemed rather snobbish. Mike passed a woman on his way to the bowl of punch. She stepped out from behind the pillar, placing her hand daintily in front of her.

"Excuse me," Mike looked at her. The lady had her nose pulled up, her hand held out in front of her, blocking his path. "Ma'am, you're hand is in the way."

"I know that, boy. I'm not blind, nor am I stupid." She informed him, her voice nosily and high. Mike gave her a look that clearly told her that he thought otherwise.

"Then maybe you'd like to, oh I don't know, move you hand out of the way." Mike tried to contain his temper, but this was just stupid. Who did this lady think she was?

"I will," she paused, sipping from the glass she was holding. "As soon as I walk by you."

"Well, then walk already." Mike pointed forward. "You've been standing here for a long time now. If you couldn't walk in those shoes, you shouldn't have worn them."

"I can walk perfectly fine in these shoes," her voice seemed appalled. Mike watched her carefully; he had never seen this woman before. She certainly wasn't some A-List celebrity or else he would have known her from somewhere.

"Well, hurry up then, miss. The night is young, and I am too. You may be tired and ready to go home but I'm still getting my groove on."

The women finally looked at Mike, her hawk-eyes taking in every inch of him. She watched him scornfully, in a condescending manner. She pouted (in a rather unattractive manner), stomping away without looking back to him. Mike grinned to himself, popping his collar before moving forward, still looking around the room.

"Oli—Mike?" A deep voice asked. Mike froze, afraid someone had spotted him. But, he relaxed when he heard a cough come from the person also. The presence behind him seemed familiar somehow.

Taking a deep breath, Mike spun around, finding himself face-to-face with the one and only Jake Ryan. Mike released the breath he was holding, his eyes widening in surprise. He didn't know the Jake Ryan came to these kinds of functions.

"Jake," Mike put his hand out. Jake smiled, shaking his hand firmly. "How've you been?"

"Alright, man. How are you?" Jake let go of Mike's hand, pacing his other hand on Mike's shoulder.

"Good." Mike shrugged. "Just got ditched by Lola, she wanted to call her boyfriend."

"Lola's got a boyfriend?" Jake raised his eyebrows at Mike. Somehow the idea didn't seem very believable.

"No," Mike laughed. "Lilly does, and he's a really great guy. I suppose she missed him and called to just talk. Hear his voice."

"I see," Jake nodded. "And how's school?"

"No better than before. Now that Lilly's dating Randy—you know the senior football player—our status has improved." Mike said proudly. "Amber and Ashley don't bother us anymore."

"That's good," Jake murmured. And the two fell silent. Jake's hand still stood on Mike's shoulder. Mike looked over at Jake, who was staring off into the distance at nothing in particular. His brows her knitted together, and his mouth was open just a fraction, as if he wanted to ask something but forgot how.

"How—how's Miley doing?" Jake asked, finally looking back at Mike. Mike felt himself grin; he _knew_ that Jake would ask that. He would too, had he met up with the best friend of the girl he was in love with. It was the same girl whom he had been _just_ friends with when he left to film a new movie—and was still madly in love with.

"She's fine," Mike answered, nonchalantly. Jake's eyes flashed up to his face, and Mike smirked to himself. He knew that answer would peeve Jake, but he couldn't help it. Jake gave him a pointed look and Oliver felt obliged to continue. "She's up and about. Like any other girl. She bought a new pair of shoes the other day."

Jake's eyes widened as he took in what Mike had said. His mouth dropped open, his eyes glued to Mike's face. Mike struggled to keep his laughter contained at Jake watched in an incredulous manner.

"You know that's not what I mean," Jake protested, shoving Mike lightly. He smiled at Mike, crossing his arms over his chest. "I mean, how is she?"

"I don't know really," Mike shrugged. "But you could ask her, yourself. She's here."

"She's here? As in at this party," Jake questioned, his eyes darting around the room and his hands fidgeting. Mike cracked a smile at his schoolboy behaviour.

"Yeah. I think she might be out on the balcony." Mike told him, remembering how Hannah had stormed off earlier.

"The balcony?" Jake asked, alarmed. "But it's snowing outside right now."

"I know that. But she and Lola had this argument and I suppose she went out to cool down. The balcony would probably be where she went off to, since Miley does prefer fresh air when she's upset. It's snowing, so she knows no one will bother her. Plus, Miley was always rather keen with snow." Mike explained. Understanding flooded Jake's features. His eyes softened, and he ran his fingers through his hair.

"What did they fight about?" Jake questioned. Mike shook his head.

"Ask Miley when you find her. I'm sure she'll tell you." Mike smiled at Jake. Jake's eyes dropped to the floor and he frowned lightly.

"She won't tell me anything. Miley pretty much hates me right now." Jake complained. "She'd tell me to bugger off and probably throw at shoe at me."

"Doubt it," Mike commented. "She really doesn't hate you; quite the opposite actually. And she wouldn't throw her shoe at you either, so no need to worry over that. She's wearing these new pair of Jimmy Choo's and they go 'perfectly' with her dress. She wouldn't want to ruin them."

Jake gave him a dubious look. The last thing he wanted to do was approach Miley while she was upset. She had a fiery temper and something told him that once she got wound up, no shoe was going to stop her. He didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of the girl he loved.

"Don't worry," Mike assured. "Call me if anything happens and I'll come down. You won't need too, but you can."

"Fine," Jake gave in. "But if anything happens to my face at all, expect a call from my lawyer."

"With open arms, Jake." Mike laughed. "Nothing to worry about, dude. She _wants_ to see you; you're all she could talk about for the past while."

"Okay. Wish me luck," Jake rolled his shoulders back, taking a deep breath.

"Good luck," Mike called as Jake walked toward the back door. "Not that you'll need it much."

Mike smiled at himself. Once Jake and Miley started talking, the whole fight from earlier would be completely forgotten. Mission accomplished. Miley would have to thank him for his efforts later, he decided. As for now, he needed to find himself some punch and a very pretty ball girl.

--&--

Jake's heart raced as he made his way out the back door and up the stairs. The snow was falling from the sky, drifting down to the earth. The moon was out and stars were twinkling. The air was crisp and brisk, filling Jake's lungs when he took in several deep breaths. Jake Ryan was never the nervous type, but that always changed when he was around Miley. Whenever he was in her presence, Jake's heart fluttered and his stomach was attacked by a herd of butterflies. When she spoke his name through her soft pink lips, his breath got caught in his throat; whenever she touched him—her not knowing what this did to him, her feathery light touch—his skin burned and goose bumps erupted over his arms.

No girl had ever had this effect on him. But, then again, none of those other girls were Miley Stewart.

The stairs creaked under his weight as he slipped up the wooden stairs. Before long, he was at the top. The night seemed more heavenly on the roof of the building. The view that the rooftop held was magnificent. The tall office buildings that filled downtown Los Angles were seen from where Jake stood. The moon and stars filled the night with a soothing glow. The snow fluttered down from the dark sky, and Jake was sure that _this_ is what fairytales looked like. That was when Jake turned to look over to the right.

And there she stood. She was leaning over the rail, her bold wig thrown inside her large purse, brown tresses spilling over her shoulders and flowing down her back. She had on a dark grey dress, which stopped right below her knees, showing off her long, tan, smooth legs. Jake felt his mouth water. Her arms were bare, since her dress only covered over her shoulders. Her feet were accompanied with silver open-toe heels, her nails painted red—his favourite colour.

Ironically enough, the two matched. Jake had on an Armani suit, with a lighter grey tie and a dark grey vest under his black jacket. He stood there for a minute, debating internally whether or not he should approach her. Oliver told him he had nothing to worry about. She had been talking about him, as far as he knew, but Oliver hadn't specified whether or not she was talking _well_ about him. Jake didn't want her to see him if he knew that when she spoke of him, she was damning him to the deepest pits of hell.

After standing atop the roof for a solid two minutes, arguing within him, Jake decided to use up the bottle of bravery and courage that he had stored away within himself. He took an unnecessary deep breath and slowly released it before taking a cautious step forward. He stepped forward once, and Miley was yet to hear him. The floor made no noise, not giving him away. His eyes stayed on her back, watching her intently, as he took another step forward. This time, he hadn't been so lucky since the floor creaked slightly when his weight shifted. Miley jumped back from the rail and spun around.

Jake's heart stopped for a moment, along with the rest of the world. He had never before witnessed such a beautiful creature. Her hair had fallen into her face when she moved back, her chocolate locks framing her face. Her cerulean eyes—which seemed to look almost grey due to the colour of her dress—were wide. The dress hugged her every curve from the front, and it dipped rather low near her chest showing off her given cleavage. Jake felt himself drool. She looked so innocent watching him, the glow from the moon basking her face.

"Miley," Jake spoke softly. Her eyes hadn't left his face since the moment she turned around. She was watching him with such intensity that it almost frightened him. Almost.

"Jake," she whispered. A slight breeze blew forward, causing wisps of hair to fall onto her face. She made no move to remove them, though Jake didn't want her to. He liked her hair like that.

"How are you," he asked. She hadn't answered him right away, just stood there watching him with her eyes. Jake, who was watching her too, took a hesitant step forward. His eyes didn't leave her face as he observed her reaction. But when he hadn't been met with one, he continued to move toward her. He only stopped when the next words left her mouth.

"Why are you here," she inquired, her eyes suddenly going wide. Comprehension flooded her face. "Lilly sent you, hadn't she? She _knew_ what would get me the hardest and she sent you. How dare she! I trusted her! I suppose she told you why to come along, right? To mock me!"

"Miley," Jake interrupted her, taking another wary step forward. He held his hands up, as some sort of peace offering. "Lilly didn't send me. I actually didn't see her the whole night."

"Oh," her face fell slightly. Her eyes went downcast, and she began fidgeting with her fingers. Her head was ducked with her hair falling forward. Another breeze rippled through the night, and the scent of Miley's hair carried with the wind, filling Jake's nose. "How did you find me then?"

"I ran into Oliver. He told me you and Lilly had a…disagreement," he struggled to find the right word. "He didn't tell what it was about. He thought I should ask you for that. I also want to see you, and he told where I could find you."

"Did he," Miley murmured, making a mental note to kill Oliver later. She wasn't ready to confront Jake about her feelings just yet.

"Yeah," Jake nodded, his hair falling onto his forehead. "So, how are you?"

"I'm fine," Miley answered simply, turning around to resume back to her previous position. She was silent for a minute, and her prayers were answered when Jake came up behind her, mimicking her actions. "And how are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Jake told her, watching the cars speeding past them down below. "Busy with the new movie coming out and everything. But I'm fine nonetheless."

"That's good. How's Roxanne?" Miley asked, referring to Jake's younger teenage sister. The blond beauty was 15, three years younger than her super-star brother.

"She's alright." Jake shrugged. "She misses you, you know. She asks why you don't come by anymore. I guess she wants some girl to talk to. Mom's not 'cool' in her book and she can't talk to her big brother about everything anymore."

Miley laughed softly. "I'll come by sometime. The two of us can have a girl's day out. She does need a sister figure in her life. You're right, she can't run too her big brother for everything anymore. She's a _teenager_ now."

"She'd like that a lot." Jake paused, unsure of whether or not he should ask the next question. "Miley, if you don't mind me asking? What is it you and Lilly fought over before?"

Jake noticed Miley stiffen and roll her eyes. "She always assumes that I know what she's thinking. She got upset that Oliver left half-way through the show to talk to Selena about the Lakers game that was happening tonight. Lilly said she wanted to be there, and got upset that I dragged her to the show.

"It's not like I knew she didn't want to come to the show. I just didn't know that she'd rather watch the Lakers game. I mean, she was so enthusiastic about the show! She's a good actress, I'll give her that. But I can't always know what she wants if she doesn't tell me," Miley glanced at him, smiling slightly. "Sorry to dump this on you."

"No, it's fine." Jake smiled warmly at her, sliding closer to Miley against the rail. "And so she just threw it all out in the open earlier?"

"Uh…Yeah," Miley's thoughts became hazy as she took notice of the close proximity between her and Jake now. Their shoulders were almost touching. Miley's heart was beating so hard, she was certain it would leave a bruise.

"I bet that didn't feel good," Jake looked thoughtful for a minute. "I had a friend, before I became famous. He was a great guy; we were friends since we were kids. We used to do everything together—he was my best friend. Before I moved out to work on the T.V series, I talked to him. Mom thought I should, in order to maintain our friendship; I needed to know how he felt.

"So, I talked with him the day before I left. We went to the park near my old house, at our favourite spot. I talked to him about everything that day. He told me he was fine with the move and the television series as long as we remained friends. I promised him we would. He seemed okay with it when I left him that day. After I moved to L.A I called him almost everyday and we talked. He told me how everything was at home and I filled him in on everything that was happening with me in L.A. He seemed content with everything when we spoke. So, it was natural for me to assume that nothing was wrong.

"And then one day he just lost it. He blew up on me, accusing me of ruining our friendship and everything. He made it seem like all along he was perfectly fine with everything. He was bottling up his emotions in order for me to like my life and reach my full potential. He didn't want to hold me back, he said. I told him to never think that, because he was more important than Hollywood. He was my best friend and that he should tell me whenever he was uncomfortable with anything." Jake looked down at Miley. "Communication is the key in _any_ relationship."

"And how are things between you both now?" Miley pressed, worried that the same thing might happen to her and Lilly. She couldn't risk losing Lilly—she was her best friend.

"We worked out our problems, and I'm sure you and Lilly will too." Jake's words relieved Miley. "But you have to communicate properly if you want to make everything work."

"I will, from now on," Miley vowed. A gust of wind blew in their direction, and Miley shivered, rubbing her bare arms.

"Cold," Jake glanced at her shivering small form. Miley's teeth began to chatter as she shook her head. Jake laughed, slipping his jacket off his shoulders. "There," he placed it over her shoulders. Miley sank into the jacket, gratefully.

"Thanks," Miley sunk into the jacket. Jake's aroma now surrounded her, and her mind began to spin. He smelled great. Unlike most teenage boys, he knew the right amount of cologne to wear. He didn't drown himself with half the bottle, but he didn't use one sprit where you could still smell the body odour. He used the right amount and just the right kind—just like Miley loved it.

"No problem," Jake responded, easily. He turned around, watching Miley as he leaned back on the rail from behind. He watched at Miley slipped her hands into the arms of the jacket, pulling it closer to her. He couldn't help but notice how wonderful she looked in his attire.

"It looks wonderful out here, don't you think?" Miley's eyes trailed across the glittering city before her.

But Jake didn't answer her and she didn't notice. She hadn't noticed his intense stare on her either. She seemed oblivious to everything else, and besides her tense shoulders, completely at ease. She was amazing, and no word known to man could describe how much Jake cared for this girl. He had dated girls before but none of them had done this to him. Not one had held him captivated from the very first moment she spoke to him. Not one girl had ever made his mind race, and he had never felt self-conscious in front of anyone before—until he met Miley of course.

She was kind, warm, and intelligent. Her persistence, impatience and temper allowed everyone to know _she_ was in control. Her appearance was only half of the beauty Jake saw in her. Behind her long flowing hair and sky blue eyes, Jake knew that a true woman stood. She knew what to say and when to say it. She was responsible and independent. She managed her normal life with family and friends, her Hannah life and everything in between and yet came out in top each and every time. Jake's heart swelled when he watched her. She was gorgeous, magical—surely something out of some fairytale book. No one could be so perfect! Miley Stewart was God's greatest master piece.

It happened so suddenly that Jake hadn't time to process what was happening. One minute was he watching Miley while she watched the city of L.A. The next minute, she had turned to him with a wicked grin on her face, scooping a handful of snow that had piled on the rail, throwing t his face. Another thing to add to Miley's long list of talents was her aim. The snowball smacked Jake in his face, leaving a tail of wet water dripping down his face.

Jake reached up to wipe excess snow and water from his face, glaring at Miley. She grinned innocently at him in return. Jake smirked at her, moving forward. Miley, who realised what the glint in his green eyes meant, squealed, taking off to the other side of the roof. Jake moved forward, he almost slipped. Grabbing onto the rail to steady him, Miley darted forward. Jake paused, watching her speed down to the other end of the roof. She stopped near the corner, watching him. Jake straightened up, glaring at her from where he stood. Miley stuck her tongue at him, immaturely. Jake grinned at her young, childlike ways.

Jake merely stood there, watching her stand there. The snow was falling down faster and thicker. Her hair had white spots all over, and Miley shivered into his jacket. She stayed still for a minute, before realising Jake wasn't going to move. She looked up at him curiously, and Jake just shook his head at her.

"I'll slip and fall if I run across the roof," he called to her. Miley broke out into a wide smile when she heard him.

"Scared of a little snow and cold, aren't we?" She teased, laughing. Jake loved her laugh. Next to her voice, it was the most important sound in his world.

"No, I'm not." Jake crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. "I'm not scared."

"Of course not," Miley grinned at his schoolboy antics. "Jake Ryan is _never_ scared."

"Exactly," he agreed, nodding his head. Miley shrugged, looking up at the sky, watching the snow fall down. Slowly, hesitantly, she began to sing. She started off low and quiet, but as she progressed her voice grew stronger. Her eyes remained on the sky, but she knew Jake could hear her.

"_If all the snowflakes were candy-bars and milkshakes, _

_Oh what a snow that would be._

_Standing outside with your mouth open wide,_

_Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah_

_If all the snowflakes were candy-bars and milk-shakes,_

_Oh, what a snow that would be."_

Jake smiled gently, watching her stick her tongue out and try to catch the falling flakes. She looked like angel, standing in the middle of the snowfall. Her arms were spread out in front of her, her eyes fluttered shut. Jake found himself moving towards her, unconsciously. He needed to be next to her, to feel her body pressed against his. Coming up from behind, Jake crept up to her quietly. He held his breath, walking ever so slowly, trying not to disturb Miley as she stood in her serene trance. When he was right behind her, he paused, listening to her deep breathing. She seemed to have been asleep—standing up. She needed to wake up, Jake thought.

Reaching out, he grabbed Miley around the waist, and lifted her up. Miley's eyes flew open, and her hands landed right on top of Jake's. Jake's hand tingled, as he lifted Miley off the ground, spinning her around. Miley screamed loudly, clutching Jake's hand in hers. The snow continued to fall around them.

"Jake Ryan, you'd better put me down right now!" Miley shouted as Jake spun her around. Jake grinned at her, tightening his hold on her waist.

"What if I don't?" He teased lightly, spinning her faster. Miley didn't answer; she simply clutched Jake's hands even tighter. One of Miley's hands slid onto Jake's arm, holding it securely in her hand. Jake felt his heart stop, and he stumbled backwards slightly. He steadied himself before setting Miley down firmly on the ground. Jake straightened up, watching the girl before him. Miley hadn't turned around since Jake had set her down, staring straight ahead.

Jake smirked, as he stepped forward, his chest pressed against her back. He leaned in, speaking into her ear. "Miley, turn around."

Jake heard her breath quicken, when he ran his fingers over her bare shoulders. He suddenly felt a rush of courage over-turn him. Miley trembled under his touch. She took several gulps of air to compose her, and crossed her arms.

"No, I'm fine where I am, thanks." Miley answered doggedly. Jake smiled, he loved that she was wilful. She was determined and strong, and right now to him, it was a complete turn on.

Jake moved closer, his lips against her neck and he wrapped his muscular arms around Miley's waist. Miley shivered when Jake's mouth came into contact with her skin and her heart almost pounded out of her chest when she felt his tongue flicker across her neck.

"Turn around, Miley. Please," Jake's hot breath fanned across the back of her neck. His hands began to rub small circles over her hips, where they stood.

Miley wanted to turn around—she need to see him. But she knew that one look into his eyes and she would melt completely. Taking another and final deep breath, Miley turned around in his arms. She didn't look at his face, but she could feel a blush rise to her cheeks when she felt his chest pressed up against hers. She would have moved, if Jake's arms didn't have such a tight hold on her.

"Look at me, Miley." Jake commanded tenderly. Miley continued to stare at his chest, shaking her head. Jake sighed, shaking his own head at her. He lifted his hand from her hip, hooking his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at his face.

"Miley," Jake started his breathing deep as he watched her beautiful face. He suddenly found it difficult to form a coherent sentence with her in such close propinquity.

"Jake," she whispered, her hands against his chest. Her eyes locked with his and Miley felt her heart constrict. She'd never felt something so powerful, nothing compared to she was feeling now.

Jake's mouth felt dry, and he could feel Miley curl her fingers around his shirt. He had to tell her how he felt. The moment was perfect. He pulled her closer, leaving no space between the two. Looking into her eyes, Jake had never felt something so real…so _right_.

"I love you," Jake whispered to her, his face centimetres from hers. Miley blinked at him twice, processing his words. It took a few minutes of silence for his words to register, a thick air surrounding them.

"You know what? I love you too, Jake Ryan." Miley told him, smiling slightly. "And I think I have for a long time now."

Jake's entire face brightening and he broke out into huge grin. Without any warning, he leaned down and kissed her. Miley's world stop in time with Jake's, and no one else matter. Nothing else could be done. They had each other in their arms, and not one other thing could compare or come to of greater importance.

And standing there on the roof top, with the snow falling around the two if them, Jake realised two important things. One: That something good could always come out of having a fight with your best friend. And two: that he loved Miley with every fibre in his being. And he'd do anything for her—any day, anytime, anywhere. Always.

--&--

**Author's Note:** Aha! The brand new Jake and Miley story that I promised you in _Not Alone_ (which I recommend to any Nick and Miley fans)! I started working on this as soon as I finished and posted _Not Alone_ and haven't been able to stop. I forgot how astonishing it was to explore Miley and Jake's complicated relationship. I finished this rather quickly, sooner than I would have expected. And here it is!

Now, I have a question. Has anyone ever questioned the English language? I know I have, plenty of times. Sometime, it is the most complicated language ever to me. Why are word spelt in the oddest of ways? See, my friend (who is a great guy, honestly) is not the most wonderful speller in the world—quite the contrary actually. Anyway, he sent me a note during summer school classes, and he had spelt _doubt_ as _dought_. At first, I laughed when reading it. I thought how could you make a mistake with the word doubt? Especially one like _that_! But, I later realised that it made better sense. The word drought is pronounced the same way as doubt, so it'd only make sense that someone spells it the same way. Doubt it pronounced like drought without the 'I', right? So, why isn't it written like drought without the 'I'?

I know a puzzler. But don't fret over it. I'll be sending a letter to who ever discovered the spelling to that word, discussing this issue further. I'll get back to you all with the results. That's how wonderful of a writer I am. Now, you all can show me how appreciative you are about this and send be wonderful reviewers, sending me wonderful reviews! And even if you don't appreciate my trouble with the 'doubt' issue, write me a review expressing your thoughts. Tell me about other words that you think seem weird. I want to hear how you all feel about the English language (or any other language is English is not your first) because I want to hear about it—in your reviews!

Hugs and Kisses

--Caramel161


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